


Do Fairytales Come True?

by totallynotaddicted



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, I just love these two dorks so much okay??, lots of fairytale refs, please love the cat son, super fluffy, will get p angsty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-29
Updated: 2016-05-22
Packaged: 2018-05-09 15:27:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5545157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/totallynotaddicted/pseuds/totallynotaddicted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once upon a time there was a young boy by the name of Adrien Agreste who learned the truth about fairytales.</p><p>AKA The story of how Adrien Agreste goes from wanting to be a prince to finally becoming a rogue, a princess, a knight, a thief, a sorcerer, a peasant, and finally a king.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Prince, a Rogue, a Princess, and a Knight

**Author's Note:**

> @me: Damn, look at all of those stories I have to finish. I gotta work on them man.
> 
> also @ me: BUT CHAT NOIR/ ADRIEN AGRESTE
> 
> Thus this fic was born. So I hope that ya'll enjoy the ride!!!

Ever since he was a little kid Adrien had found fairytales to be fascinating. His father had always disapproved of this, saying that fairytales were for little girls with too much imagination and time on their hands. A proper boy like Adrien shouldn't be reading such garbage, such foolishness. Adrien was to be a man, not a weak woman.

 

Adrien's mother, on the other hand, found this trait of his endearing and constantly indulged in her son's requests for “One more story, _mere_! Just one more!”

 

His mother would laugh, that tinkling laugh that sent shivers down his spine and made his heart beat faster.

 

“Very well, _ma petit gar_ _ç_ _on._ Just one more story wouldn't hurt.”

 

And she would start in that beautiful, wonderful, soft voice of her's that filled the air like music and pulled you in like a magnet.

 

The stories always started with a beautiful princess with a tragic backstory and ended with a handsome prince and marriage. Adrien always loved the part in which the prince arrived, ready to sweep his princess off her feet and save the day.

 

A knight in shinning armor.

 

A Prince Charming.

 

What a wonderful thing to do, to save the girl and find your true love!

 

“Mama,” Adrien told his mother one day as she tucked him in. “Mama,” he slurred, drifting off to sleep. “I'm going to be like that one day. I'm gonna be a prince and save my princess.”

 

His mother chuckled and kissed his nose. “I'm sure you will, _ma cherie._ I'm sure you will.”

 

What a wonderful time that was, when fairytales seemed to be so true and the world so pure and innocent. Where one could really be a prince, find a princess, and run off with her into the sunset in order to live out a happily ever after.

 

But happy endings don't exist, Adrien realized as he grew up and watched as the world, _his world_ , crumbled down at his feet.

 

The halls are empty now and all he hears are the whispers of the ghosts of the past, mocking his loneliness. The walls are bare, no longer painted with the bright reds and oranges that his mother so dearly loved. He sat alone at the dinner table now, his only companion the looming painting of him and father looking grimly into the distance.

 

Adrien could feel himself fading away, his soul sucked away into a deep void of despair. Far too young an Adrien Agreste realized that fairytales do not exist and there was no one around to break his fall.

 

He learned to cope with it, this gaping hole in his heart that refused to heal. He'd spend hours, days, sometimes even weeks, patching it up only to wake up the next day with all his hard work undone and heart bleeding out again.

 

No longer was he the Adrien Agreste of dreams and love, but the Adrien Agreste of hopelessness and fear.

 

He hid it well, he thinks. No one around him seemed to notice this change. But, then again, no one was ever home and he rarely left his room so it wasn't like there was even anyone around to notice or worry about him to begin with.

 

Adrien had started to accept that he was going to live out the rest of life in the dark gloom. And then… and then… he was trusted with his miraculous. He was entrusted with the role of Chat Noir.

 

Chat Noir was the greatest thing to happen to him. Being Chat Noir was the the best thing that could have ever happened to him. Adrien found himself transforming every night and escaping into the dark sky, drunk on his freedom as he raced through the rooftops of Paris. Never, ever in his life had he ever felt so free, so relaxed, so him. The flirty and daring Chat Noir was the perfect escape for the soft and gentle Adrien.

 

Adrien found himself revisting those fairytales from long ago, the ones that his mother whispered in his ear and encouraged him to follow.

 

But now he viewed them in a different light. How silly they had been. There was no such thing as a Prince Charming and like hell would Adrien ever be able to be one.

 

How boring!

 

How plain!

 

A prince had to do as he was told. A prince would become a king, ladden with responsibilities and work.

 

How awful. How cruel.

 

He already did enough of that Adrien.

 

He was much better off as a rogue. A mysterious loner in the night.

 

Yeah, that sounded nice.

 

Good-bye mister goody-two shoes Adrien! Chat Noir the alleycat, the bad boy, the lone rogue has arrived! Chat Noir followed no rules. Chat Noir had no responsibilities. Chat Noir was free. As free as the wind that ruffled his hair as he ran through the rooftops of Paris. As free as the stray cat that wandered the streets with only the the soft glow of streetlights to guide him. As free as the conman of every fairytail told.

 

Adrien could get used to this double-life. By day Adrien Agreste, by night Chat Noir.

 

This was good.

 

This was very good.

 

And it only got better when he met _her._

 

Adrien felt like as though it had been straight out of a fairytale. Maybe it had been.

 

It hit him like a ton of bricks when he first saw her, her silohete as she passed him by. He's not sure what she had been doing then, would never know what she had been doing. Heck, he doesn't even remember what he had been doing there in the first place. All he recalled was the soft voice in his ear that whispered _Go after her_ and the magnetism that made him follow her wordless.

 

He trailed after her through back streets and open roads, watched in amazement as she swung around on what seemed to be like a yo-yo. She (thankfully) didn't notice him at all and made her way towards Paris' shining beacon, the Effiel Tower. It was then that he got his first glance at her, the girl that would become his savior.

 

A slim, lithe figure. Pigtails. A red suit and black spots.

 

That was all he was able to regist before she sped off again and started to swing her way up the metal structure.

 

He scaled the Effiel Tower after her, carefully hiding in the shadows so as to not startle the girl. She moved with such grace, such beauty, such _power._

 

Chat Noir was entranced, his attention completely riveted on her...

 

So riveted that he his foot slipped on the cold metal and ended up plummeting off the Effiel Tower.

 

Have you ever fallen off of Paris' most important monument? Adrien hopes that you never do. The panic and fear that gripped him as he went down, down, down almost killed him. He might have screamed, might have not. He isn't sure. You don't really think about anything other than your imminent death as you fall off the Effiel Tower.

 

He could already imagine his damaged and broken body lying on the floor. What would the newspapers say? How would the public react? What would his father think?

 

Chat closed his eyes and took in one last deep breath, clinging on to his life as much as he could before the inevitable happened.

 

Except, it didn't happen.

 

He heard a _whish_ , and _whoosh_ and suddenly he was suspended in thin air, someone firmly grasping his torso. He let out a gasp of surprise and curled up, half-wanting to squirm away and half-wanting to press up closer to his rescuer.

 

“You're safe now,” the person told him. “You're safe now.

 

Chat cracked open an eye and found himself gazing into the prettiest eyes he had ever seen. They were an electric blue filled with determination, concern, and gentless, things that Adrien hadn't seen in years and left him breathless.

 

“You're okay,” she assured him. “You're okay.”

 

And he was. He was okay. He was okay because this girl with beautiful blue eyes that just saved his life was telling him that he was.

 

 _God, she's gorgeous. She pretty. So beautiful._ Chat could just die right there, right now and it would a perfectly happy death.

 

“What's a stray kitty cat doing here?” she asked him, tilting her head to the side, her pigtails bouncing with the movement.

 

Adrien opened his mouth but the words stuck to the back of his throat. How couldn't they have? How on earth was he supposed to talk to this otherworldly creature?

 

But she was waiting for an answer, her intense gaze prying one from him, so Chat forced his mouth to work, for his vocal cords to say something.

 

He recalled the underground stories of a new heroine that went by the name of Ladybug, the wielder of good luck. Could this be her? It had to be. It just had to be.

 

Chat's lips curled up into a confident, cocky smirk, the perfect trademark for an alleycat such as himself. “Why, looking for a nice Lady to take me in, of course.” He winked at her flirtatiously. “Will you be the lucky one to take me home?”

 

Ladybug wrinkled her nose a little, her mask scrunching up a little. Chat was almost sure that she was disgusted but the small smile on her lips betrayed her amusement.

 

“What a smooth-talking cat I caught myself,” she said, her eyes twinkling. “Think that you can woo your way onto my side?”

 

If Adrien had been handling this situation he surely would have blushed. Blushed and blabbered and stuttered and stammered.

 

But this wasn't Adrien in Ladybug's arms. Oh no. This was Chat Noir and Chat Noir never, ever passed up a playful banter such as this one.

 

“I bet I could,” he said. “If you give me the chance.”

 

“Hm, I dunno,” she said, glancing to the side. “I'm not sure if someone that falls off the Effiel Tower is someone that I could pair up with easily.”

 

“It only happened because I was looking at you,” he told her. “You're quite the sight.”

 

Ladybug shot him an amused grin. “What a flirt,” she said, slowly raising them up until they could stand on one of the metal bars. Chat leaned against of the metal beams, a little shaky from his fall.

 

“Most girls like it when boys are direct with then,” Chat Noir defended, slightly deflated that his suaveness didn't seem to affect the girl in front of him. He extended a hand, a grin on his lips. “Chat Noir. At your service, My Lady.”

 

Ladybug threw her head back and laughed. “Chat Noir, huh? I guess that means that you're bad luck.”

 

Chat Noir shrugged. “Depends on what you think is bad luck.”

 

“Falling off the Effiel Tower seems like pretty bad luck to me.” Chat Noir pouted and Ladybug giggled. Her gaze drifted out to the city below them, a glittering sea of lights. Chat couldn't help but notice the way her eyes softened with fondness, the gentle smile that tugged her lips. “It's beautiful, isn't it?” she whispered.

 

“Yeah,” he replied, dumbstruck. “Yeah.”

 

She returned her gaze back to him. “Well, it was nice meeting you, Chat Noir. I'll be seeing you around, I guess. Stay out of trouble, okay kitty-cat?” She winked at him and if Chat hadn't been leaning against something he would have swooned and fallen off again.

 

Not that that would have necessarily been a bad thing. That would have meant being rescued by Ladybug and that was an experience that he would love to have again.

 

He watched her escape into the night, swinging her wasy across the city. He kept his gaze on her until she was nothing but a speck in the horizon, a dot on the moon. He crumbled down to his knees, a dreamy sigh coming out of his lips.

 

He was no prince. He was no rouge.

 

He was a princess, a fair maiden, swept off his feet by a mysterious masked-heroine who could probably crush him with pinch of her fingers.

 

He went back home in a daze, unsure of how to deal with the pouding of his heart and the grin on his face. He slept well that night, his head filled with dreams of a knight in red and black armor saving him time and time again.

 

The next morning Adrien's father tells him that he'll be sent to a public school, just like any other normal kid on the planet.

 

Adrien was estatic.

 

No more home tutors! No more boring violin classes! He'd finally get the chance to interact with other kids his age! He'd have classes with other kids his age! He could finally make friends with kids his age that weren't snotty rich kids! He could finally be a normal teenager!

 

Some of Ladybug's luck must have rubbed off on him, he's sure of it. He goes off to find her that night, wanting to thank her for… for whatever she had done to him.

 

She seemed amused to see him again, this other costumed-up teenager. She took his gratitude gracefully and promised him that they'll see each other again soon.

 

Just before she left he grabbed her wrist. “Let me be your partner, please?” he blurted out.

 

She raised an eyebrow. “My partner? Where is this coming from?”

 

Chat's doesn't know what compelled him to say that, what made him get that idea in his head, but he couldn't shake it off, couldn't help but feel that it was so natural, so right to be by her side. Something about her pulled him in. Something about her made him want to stay longer, be there for her at all times. He couldn't explain it, couldn't find any words that could describe this desire, this infatuation with a girl that he hadn't even talked too for more than ten minutes.

 

But they were made for each other. He could feel it. If she was the sun, he was the moon. If she was a raging fire, he was the thundering storm. If she was the shining light of Paris, he would be her shadow. After all, they already were good luck and bad luck respectively. They just had to work together.

 

Ladybug wasn't convinced at first but Chat Noir persisted, kept on following her and trying to prove his self-worth to her. He didn't know what drove this insane desire to be with her, didn't care.

 

He just had to be by her side. He just knew it.

 

But never had to prove himself, not really. Maybe Ladybug felt something too, a magnetic pull to him. She started to slow down a little, letting him catch up to her. She started looking over her shoulder, looking to see if he was behind her. She didn't speak, not really, but her kind smiles and teasing eyes spoke volumes to him.

 

She didn't mind him. She found him endearing, charming even. Chat could live with that. He could definetely live with that.

 

Some nights she wouldn't run at all, just sit down and stare up at the sky. Chat Noir especially loved those nights. She looked so beautiful, shoulders relaxed and head tipped back as moonlight washed over her. Chat Noir could feel the way his face heated up, the flutter of butterflies in his stomach as he took her in.

 

Her eyes slid over to him, calculating and cool. “Cat got you tongue, kitty?”

 

“And here I thought that I was the one that made cat related puns,” said Chat.

 

Ladybug snorted and shook her head. “Don't think too highly of yourself.”

 

“Hm, but you chose me to be at your side, didn't you? How could I not think highly of myself?” He tilted his head to the side, suddenly feeling nervous. “I mean, you have chosen me, right? We are partners now, right?” There was no that he had chased after her all this time only for her to not feel the same way.

 

But Ladybug smiled at him. “I've never thought of it like that but I guess that we are partners. A pair of heroes. Kind of boring though, since there is no super-villians to fight.”

 

Chat Noir laughed. “That's fine. No need to start wishing for baddies come up, right? Let's enjoy the peace while we have it.”

 

And boy, did they enjoy it. Adrien doesn't remember ever feeling his happy, not even when he first stepped into the suit and took the responsibility of being Chat Noir. Nothing could beat racing with Ladybug, their playful banter filling up the cool night air.

 

Their playtime slowed down when school started up. Chat Noir didn't have to go to class, but Adrien did, and so that Ladybug's civilian identity, he supposed. Their night runs became fewer and fewer with each passing week, but Adrien didn't mind, not really. School was hard but it wasn't bad. He'd made some friends as well. It wasn't bad. Life could be much worse afterall.

 

And to some it might seemed like it had gotten worse when the Akuma attacks started. But it didn't. Not really.

 

Sure, fighting the Akuma was hard and taxing in many ways. Sure, sometimes he would come home so late that he found himself falling asleep in his lectures. Sure, he would end up with painful black-and-blue bruises that were impossible to explain. And sure, maybe it really wasn't such a good thing that there was a supervillian with the ability to turn normal people into villians with black butterflies running around in his hometown.

 

Yet nothing could beat the adrenaline of rushing into battle beside his Lady. He felt unstoppable, powerful, fierce. The world shrunk down just to the task at hand and his partner. It was like being a knight, sword in one hand and pride in the other, ready to take down the dragon. The people of Paris were a town that he constantly had to save over and over again from danger. He was their hero.

 

Well, one of their heroes.

 

Ladybug always took the spotlight. How could she not? With her grace and confidence she eclipsed him almost completely. But Chat didn't mind standing in her shadow. It wasn't such a bad place to be. He had a pretty good view of her from his spot and he knew that there was no one in the world that could take his place beside her.

 

Months slowly crept by and Adrien found his infatuation and adoration for her growing. He found himself thinking about her class.

 

What was her favorite color? Her favorite song? Was she good at french or did numbers make more sense to her? Did she like sweets? What was her favorite ice cream flavor? Why did she smell like she always came straight out of a bakery? What did she want to be when she grew up? What would she think about Adrien?

 

These thoughts plagued him constantly but there was no escaping them, no one to tell. He tried to talk to Plagg about them once, but didn't go over too well.

 

 

“ _Who cares!” Plagg said, nibbling on a piece of cheese. “I'll like if she gives me cheese! Especially Cambert! Yum, yum, yum!”_

 

 

Adrien was left wholly unsatisfied with his Kwami's response and Plagg ended up getting a stomach ache from eating so much cheese.

 

So much for having a thousads-of-year-old deity with wisdom that matched it's age to lead you through life.

 

Adrien wasn't sure when his crush on Ladybug stopped being a crush. All he knew was that one day after a particularly tough fight he glanced at her and found himself unable to pry his eyes away. He couldn't tear his eyes from her heaving chest, dishevled bangs, and fiery eyes. She straightened up and wiped the sweat off her forehead with her forearm. She looked over at him and grinned a grin that went straight through his poor heart.

 

“Good job, kitty-cat.”

 

Oh man. Oh man, oh man, oh man, he was in deep. Very deep. Super deep. So deep that he was probably already half-way to China at this point.

 

He gave her his best smirk, ignoring the way his face heated up and how weak his knees felt. “When have I disappointed you?”

 

Labybug's lips quirked a little, the blue of her eyes brighter than Chat had ever seen before. “Never. I have the best partner in town.”

 

That night Adrien couldn't fall asleep. He tosssed and turned in bed, the image of his Lady and her words ringing in his ears. He should have felt happy about the praise. Should be feeling at the top of the world.

 

But he didn't feel like that. He didn't feel like that at all.

 

“Plagg, I think I'm sick,” Adrien said outloud.

 

His Kwami snorted. “Yeah, you're sick. All my Chats get like this at some point. Well, most,” said Plagg, curling up on top of Adrien's pillow.Adrien frowned and Plagg continued. “It's this thing that humans get. Luckily it's not contagious. If it were, I would have been sick since the beginning of time!” Plagg let out a hysterical laugh.

 

“What are you talking about?” croaked out Adrien, irritated with his Kwami.

 

“It's a lovesickness. Dunno why you humans are suseptable to it. Always falling in love. How dumb. Why fall in love when you can eat cheese?”

 

Adrien's heart stopped.

 

Love?

 

Could it be that he had fallen in love with Ladybug? Could it be that in the midst of all his flirting and general infatuation that he had developed stronger feelings for her?

 

The next time he saw her he answered his question.

 

 _Yes_ , he thought to himself as he watched her soar through the air and punch the villian in the face. _I am in love with Ladybug._

 

Now that he was aware of his feelings for her Adrien really couldn't get her out of his head. Every love song reminded him of her. Every ladybug that he saw made him want to swoon. Hell, he couldn't even look at Mandarin without feeling the urge to blush and look away like a shy school girl.

 

God, this was horrible.

 

It was only made worse by the fact that Ladybug remained firm with keeping their relationship professional. She let him wear his cocky grin around her, let him flirt with her (and sometimes even flirted back), but there was an invisible line between the two of them. A line that he would never be able to cross half because she would never let him and half because he respected her too much to even think about pushing past her boundaries.

 

But that didn't meant that he didn't want to push past them. And boy did he want to.

 

He wanted to ask her personal questions, learn more about the girl behind the mask. He wanted to press their lips together, feel how how hot their bodies would be if they were flush against each other. He wanted her to spill out girly giggles and breathy sighs. He wanted her fingers to thread his hair, calling him not Chat, not kitty-cat, but Adrien. Adrien, Adrien, Adrien. My dearest Adrien Agreste.

 

But those were fantasies that were best kept in his head and in his heart. His Lady would not approve of that. They were more than friends, yes, but she didn't see him romantically, didn't feel the same way. It would be wrong of him to push these expectations on her. She didn't owe him anything. He wasn't going to force to her love him.

 

But he could try. And boy did he try. But all got was the same grin and teasing eyes. Nothing more and nothing less. He was like a cat chasing a laser pointer.

 

It was useless, futile even. He should just give up.

 

But he couldn't. He just couldn't. Just like a cat should know that it can't catch a laser but does it anyways.

 

It hurt his heart that he could never be with Ladybug. His love for her was nothing but a mere distraction in her destiny. She had no time for it. Not when she was running around saving Paris with her magical yo-yo. Chat Noir's love for Ladybug was doomed from the start.

 

He tried to tell her. Tried to make his feelings known. He really, really did. But he had spent too much time playing around and while Ladybug might have suspected that he had feelings for her it was easy for her to brush it off as though it were nothing but a simple crush.

 

If it only he were able to do that.

 

 

 

 


	2. His Unexpected Princess

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *peeks in and throws this chapter out*
> 
> Did u know that this was done months ago but I literally just finished editing it? Goddamn I gotta work on making updates more consistent.
> 
> Enjoy~

Things started to get a little more complicated after the Evillustrator showed up.

 

See, Adrien would be lying if he said that he had never noticed Marinette, the girl that the Evillustrator was hell-bent on getting.

 

She sat behind him in class. A pretty girl with pigtails with a nervous smile and a blush that reached the tips of her ears whenever she spoke to him. A girl who had the courage to stand up to people like Chole. The girl who spent more time class chatting with her friend Alya and doodling in her notebook than taking notes.

 

Sweet, shy Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Wonderful, gentle Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

 

Adrien couldn't help but find her endearing.

 

If only he could get closer to her. But, sadly, she didn't seem to open up that easily. At least not with him. She always ended up stammering and stuttering and making up excuses to get away. It was basically impossible to approach her.

 

Well, as Adrien at least.

 

With Chat Noir Marinette was an almost completely different person. She was nothing like the shy and blushy girl that he had come to know. She was still very sweet and kind but she had a kind of spunk, a kind of fire that Adrien had never seen before.

 

So he became curious about her. He started to pay more attention to her in class. He started to take note of her confident stride, her ringing laughter, and her soft blue eyes. He found out about her passion for fashion design, her artistic ability, and her ambitious dream of being a world-renowned designer. He realized that the spunk that she had while she was with Chat wasn't a one time thing; She was always like that, sassy and brave. Yet, for some odd reason, she shrunk away from Adrien, averting her eyes and more often than not stumbling through her words.

 

But he wanted to get to know her better. But Adrien couldn't do it, no.

 

So he starts to visit her as Chat Noir.

 

There was probably some rule against it. Some big old book kept in a dusty library titled _“Things Not You Should Never, Ever, Ever Do as Superhero”_ and the first rule was probably something like, _“Don't you use your Hero Identity to do selfish things such as visiting cute classmates just because they don't really talk to you in your civilian identity.”_

 

But since Plagg hadn't told him that such a book existed and Adrien has no idea if it truly does exist he takes his chances and breaks this rule.

 

Adrien plans his visit to perfection. He had everything ready; how he would arrive, what he would say, how things would hopefully go. Sure, she wouldn't expect him on her balcony but most people never actually expect Chat Noir anyways. He couldn't wait to see the look of surprise on her face when she saw him!

 

He's a jittery mess that day, unsure of what to do with himself. He kept glancing back at Marinette, hoping that she wouldn't notice just how nervous he was. Marinette didn't seem to pick the signs but Nino sure did.

 

“Dude,” he said, pulling Adrien aside during lunch. “Are you okay? You've been totally out of whack this whole day.”

 

Adrien blushed and fidgeted under Nino's questioning gaze. “It's nothing,” he stammered. “Didn't get much sleep last night.”

 

Nino doesn't look the least bit convinced but doesn't push Adrien more. For the most part Nino believed that Adrien would open up about whatever was bothering him later. And it was usually true.

 

But not this time.

 

At home Adrien was even more of a mess. He pulled out his homework, stared at the pages before him, and eventually just shoved them off his desk in frustration because he couldn't concentrate.

 

“You probably shouldn't even do this,” said Plagg lazily, floating over his head. “It's stressing you out.”

 

Adrien shook his head. “No, no. I've planned too much for this day to not go through with it. I have to do it.”

 

“You really don't,” said Plagg under his breath, landing on top of Adrien's hair and nestling in it. “It's not like she's even expecting you or anything.”

 

“I'm going to do it,” Adrien insisted, shaking his head. “And you're going to help me.”

 

“For extra cheese,” Plagg reminded him.

 

“For extra cheese,” Adrien promised.

 

After five long, painful hours Adrien deemed it the perfect time to go and meet Marinette. He quickly transformed and slipped out his window, careful to not be noticed by anyone. He jumped from rooftop to rooftop, relishing in the feeling of the cool wind on his skin. No matter how many times he did this it still felt like the first time.

 

He got to Marinette's house in record time. He lounged on the balcony for a little while, admiring the view from there. Even after all this time his lady was still right; Paris really was beautiful.

 

He waited outside until he heard some shuffling coming from inside her room. He perked up and swung his legs over the banister, excitement and nervousness clawing at his stomach. He opened up the

hatch and leaned in to get a peek inside her room. Except he _might_ have leaned in a little too much and ended up crashing down on her bed.

 

He let out a loud yelp as a went down, followed by another softer yelp from downstairs. Chat scrambled to the edge of the bed and looked down at Marinette, wincing.

 

 _Well, at least I got the surprised part right,_ he thought miserably.

 

And surprised she was. So surprised that she had pricked her finger with her sewing needle, yanked the thread, and completly destroyed the sweater she was working on. She stared in horror at her bleeding finger and the messed up sweater for what seemed to be an eternity. Finally,Marinette slowly turned towards him, left eye twitching.

 

Chat let out a nervous chuckle. “Surprise,” he said meekly.

 

If looks could kill Chat surely would have been murdered in cold blood by now.

 

After apologizing profusely and promising to find a way to fix her sweater Chat made his way down the stairs into the lower part of her bedroom. He stood awkwardly by her window as Marinette fumed silently on her couch, undoing all of her hard work. Occassionally she'd send mean glares in his direction, something that Chat had never thought that she was capable of.

 

Finally, after a long time, Chat spoke up. “You know, most people would be thrilled that a superhero came to visit them.”

 

“Most people wouldn't be thrilled to be surprised when they're hard a work by a cat,” Marinette countered, waving her injured finger in Chat's direction. “Do you know how long it took me to make these reindeer? Do you know how many Youtube tutorials I had to look up? Do you know how hard it's going to be to get these patterns perfect again?!”

 

Chat shrunk back, intimidated. “I'm sorry,” he whispered, ears drooping.

 

Marinette let out a sigh and set the sweater aside.. “I know, I know,” she said gently, rubbing the back of her head. “Sorry for snapping at you. School has been stressful lately and I just… I dunno. I'm just very easy to set off right now.”

 

 _I don't blame you,_ Chat thought, almost cringing at the thought of the untouched pile of homework stacked on his desk. He inched his way closer to her, watching for any sign of discomfort coming from Marinette. She only blinked at him with disinterest before turning her attention back to her ruined masterpiece. Chat sat down next to her and peered over her shoulder to get a better look at the sweater she had been working on.

 

“A Christmas sweater?” Chat asked curiously. “But Christmas won't come around for a while.”

 

“I know,” said Marinette distractedly. “But I have a couple more to do so I need to start now or I'll finish it.”

 

It was a red knitted turtle-neck sweater with shimmery snowflakes dotted all over it. His eyes followed the graceful lines of the snowflakes, noting the love and care and uniqueness of each one. He could only imagine just how much pain, time and effort it took to make them. He shifted his attention to the center of the sweater, wincing slightly.

 

Marinette had all the rights to be angry at him. Heck, he was angry at _himself._ If the snowflakes had taken her ages, he could only imagine how much the reindeer took. They looked so real, Chat felt that all he had to do was touch it and they would move. Well, almost, considering that a number of their faces had been messed up.

 

His gaze lingered on the left cuff of the sweater where a cursive _“Marinette”_ written in gold. Marinette seemed to follow his eyes.

 

“I write my name on all of my pieces,” she said, tilting her head to the side. “It makes them mine.”

 

Chat felt the urge to run his fingers through the fabric, touch every single thread that Marinette had so carefully put together. But, he resisted. She probably didn't want him touching anything after what he had done.

 

“They're still yours regardless of whether or not you put your name on them,” he said quietly.

 

Marinette shrugged. “It just makes them more official, I suppose. Like they're really, one hundred percent mine.” She side-eyed him. “Is this why you came here? To mess up my work and then criticize it?”

 

Chat felt a little hurt at her words but then he noticed the teasing lilt in her voice and the curious sparkle in her eyes. “I'm an official Christmas sweater inspector. It's my duty to go all the houses in Paris to make sure that they have top-notch Christmas sweaters. Your house was the first one on my list, princess.”

 

Marinette laughed and Chat found himself grinning. “Well, does it pass? Messed up faces and all?”

 

“Messed up faces and all,” Chat said, winking at her. “Actually, I do know a professional seamstress of sorts that could probably fix those faces up in a jiffy. But… uh… I would have to take the sweater and that would mean that you would have to trust me enough to handle it and… uh...” Chat trailed off and quickly glanced away, feeling heat rush to his cheeks.

 

What was he thinking? Why had he even said that? Marinette didn't have any reason to let him do such a thing. She had no reason to trust him at all! Sure, he might have saved her once but even then it wasn't like she had been a damsel in distress. She might have been able to handle the Evillustrator all by herself.

 

Chat was about to tell her to forget about what he just said when she smiled at him and held the sweater up to him. “Prove to me that you're worth trusting,” She said. She shot him a playful wink and Chat smiled at her.

 

“She can do anything,” Chat assured her, taking the sweater from Marinette's arms and remembering the time that his pants had ripped in the middle of a fashion show and the seamstress had been able to repair them in under a minute. Truly that woman was an angel sent from heaven above. “And I'll bring it back to you tomorrow!” he added excitedly.

 

Marinette blinked in surprise. “Tomorrow? But it took me-”

 

“Tomorrow,” Chat promised, clutching the sweater tightly to his chest. He gave her a quick salute and stood up. Marinette blinked at him in confusion and Chat made his way up her ladder and onto the balcony. Chat heard footsteps behind him and knew that Marinette was following him. He wondered why, though, since their conversation was over. Maybe to say goodbye?

 

He climbed over his railing and was about to swing his legs over it when Marinette gripped his arm. He peered at her over his shoulder curiously.

 

“Chat,” she said, deadly serious. “Why did you come here? Is something wrong?” Her usually soft features had hardened, eyebrows furrowed and gaze intense. He felt that she was seizing him up, reaching deep into his soul with those piercing blue eyes.

 

But what could he tell her? That he wanted to get to know her better because she almost never spoke to Adrien? That he had felt kinda lonely and that he had wanted to talk to someone while in costume without feeling as though he was suffocating?

 

A sly smirk slid across his lips. “You'll find out soon enough, princess,” he replied, winking and then disappearing into the black night sky.

 

First thing the next day Adrien hurried over the seamstress' home. He had to run ten blocks and he was exhausted by the time he got there but this laboring breathing and spinning head would be all worth it once he saw Marinette's smile at her repaired work. He rung the doorbell, gripping the sweater tightly.

 

The door swung open and Adrien wasn't sure who was more surprised; the seamstress or himself.

 

“My dear Adrien, what brings you to my door?” she asked.

 

Adrien fidgeted on the spot before holding up the sweater to her. “Um… a friend of mine worked really hard on this and… um… I messed it up for her… so, um… I was wondering if maybe you could…?”

 

_Smooth, Adrien. Smooth._

 

He shrugged helplessly.

 

“Fix it? Why, of course!” the seamstress exclaimed.“Anything for my sweet Adrien. I'll have it ready in a couple of hours. I'll send you a text when it's ready. Feel free to pick it up then.”

 

“Really?!” Adrien said happily, hardly believing his good luck. He threw himself into the seamstress' arms. “Thank you so much!”

 

She laughed heartily and patted his back. “Anything for the worlds' best behaved model,” she said, kissing his forehead.

 

Adrien grinned, quickly saying his goodbye's and racing home. Heart nearly pounding out of his chest he made his way to his bedroom, zipping past Nathalie who called out, “You have a photo-shoot in three days!”

 

“Okay!” Adrien answered back. Nathalie might have said something else, but Adrien would never know. How could he think about a photo-shoot when he knew that he would be seeing Marinette again that night?

 

The first four hours of waiting were fine. The next three were taxing. He spent the majority of the next two hours pacing back forth, nervously biting his fingernails. The other two were spent on his bed, contemplating life and his dumb choices while swatting away Plagg, who keep hovering over him demanding to be fed.

 

Finally, at 10:30 pm, he gets the text. He let out a soft whoop of happiness and bolted out of bed. He flew down the stairs and sprinted to the seamstress' house. The cold Parisian night air seemed to cut his skin, his hoodie offering little protection. But Chat Noir had promised Marinette as that he would deliver her sweater that day and he was going to do so even if it killed him.

 

As he stood at the seamstress' door, panting loudly, he vaguely wondered why he was so hung up on doing this for Marinette. It seemed a little odd to feel so invested on someone that he really barely knew. But he didn't have the time to answer his question as the door had opened and the seamstress stood there.

 

“Adrien!” she exclaimed, very shocked. “What are you doing at these late hours?”

 

“The… sweater… please...” Adrien wheezed out, extending his hand.

 

The seamstress frowned. “But Adrien-”

 

“Please,” Adrien begged, dropping to his knees and looking at her with pleading eyes. “I… just… I really-”

 

She blinked at him, the gears whirring around in her brain until finally something clicked. Her eyes widened and she let out a small gasp which was quickly followed by a gentle giggle. “Oh, Adrien. You must really like this person, don't you?”

 

Adrien, much too tired and stressed out to truly understand her words, merely nods. “Yeah, she's important. So, could you please-”

 

“Of course, of course,” said the seamstress, laughing. “I'll be back in just a minute, sweet Adrien.” She rushed into the house and quickly came back with sweater in tow. She handed it to Adrien, who gratefully accepted it. “Your friend is very talented,” she remarked.

 

Adrien smiled to himself. “She is. Thank you so much to fixing this up! I'll see you later!”

 

“Good-bye, dear Adrien!” she called out as Adrien dashed back home.

 

Chat Noir arrived at Marinette's balcony super late that night. So late that Marinette had already fallen asleep. Chat felt his stomach flip when he saw her sleeping on her desk, nose neatly tucked in her elbow. Chat watched the gentle rise and fall of her chest, the soft flutter of her eyelids, the pink that lightly dusted her cheeks.

 

It felt like he had walked into a private scene. Something that was too innocent, too pure to be seen by an average mortal. He averted his gaze, wondering if he could be struck down by an angry god for staring too long at a maiden such as Marinette.

 

He dropped the sweater on her couch and smoothed it out. He stepped back to admire the work his seamstress had done, grinning dumbly. Man, she was _good_. He was going to have to ask his dad to give her another raise.

 

He looked around the room for a piece of paper and pen to leave Marinette a note when he heard a noise behind him. Startled, he spun around and was met with the sight of a yawning and slowly blinking Marinette.

 

“Hello, princess,” Chat greeted nervously, bowing. He nearly cursed himself for the knee-jerk reaction, but he couldn't help it. Once an entertainer always an entertainer, he supposed.

 

“I thought that you weren't coming,” Marinette croaked out sleepily. She stretched her limbs out, arching her back and making a semi-pleased sound. Chat tried hard not to think too much about the last part.

 

“I promised, didn't I? I always keep my promises.” He grinned and added, “Besides, it seems like you were waiting for me anyways.”

 

“I was,” she admitted sheepishly, getting up.

 

“Disappointing people is not a forte of mine,” said Chat, scratching the back of his neck. “Sorry that I came so late. I really did plan on getting here earlier but midnight Paris traffic is hard, you know?”

 

Marinette tried really hard to not look even the slightest bit amused by his lame joke.

 

She failed horribly.

 

She made her way to her bed and picked up the sweater. She gasped. “Chat! It's better than before! Who did you-how did you do it?”

 

Chat shrugged and looked down at his gloved hands, picking its claws with disinterest in hopes of disguising his pounding heart. “I have connections,” he said simply.

 

Marinette whistled. “You sure do.” She folded the sweater and neatly placed it on her desk. “I need to repay you somehow. Hold on.” She dug around in her drawer and pulled out a wallet. “How much did the repair cost? I think that I might have enough money to pay you back.”

 

“Uh...” said Chat, speechless. “No cost.”

 

Marinette frowned at him, absentmindedly counting her bills. “What are you talking about? You fixed my sweater. The least I can do is pay you back.” She handed him a wad of money. Chat stared at it blankly before shaking his head and pushing it away from him. Marinette pouted.

 

“No cost,” Chat repeated. “Take it as a sorry for ruining it in the first place.”

 

“That's very sweet of you, Chat, but I would feel bad if I didn't do anything for you in return,” she said. She pursed her lips. “There must be some way that I can-”

 

“Be my friend,” Chat blurted out. Marinette blinked, startled.

 

“Your friend?” she asked in surprise.

 

Chat scratched the back of his neck, feeling the burning red on his cheeks. Thank goodness that he had a mask on! “Ye-yeah. My friend. You know. A person that you hang out with, talk to a lot. Um, that.”

 

Marrinette furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. “Why?” She didn't seem weirded out, like Chat thought that she would be. Just curious and a little unsure. “Don't you have Ladybug? Isn't she your friend?”

 

“Ladybug and I are… partners more than anything else.” Chat shrugged and dropped his hand. “I mean, I guess that we are friends in a sense but…” he trailed off and shook his head. “It's kind of hard to form a friendship with someone when the only time you really see them is to save Paris.”

 

Marinette furrowed her eyebrows. “You and Ladybug don't hang out?” she asked. “Ever?” She looked even more confused, maybe even a little bit sad.

 

Chat thought hard about how he should word his next words. “Before the akumas popped we did, I suppose. But our relationship wasn't that strong then so...”

 

He stood their awkwardly as Marinette seemed to drink in his words.

 

Suddenly this idea doesn't seem that bright anymore. As Chat Noir he barely knew Marinette and yet here he was, basically spilling out his whole story about Labybug with her. It wasn't fair to Marinette to dump all of this on her. What had he been thinking? He should just go know before he says something else and ends up screwing his relationship with her up even more.

 

“I'm sorry,” Chat stuttered, backing away from Marinette. “This was a dumb thing to do. I'm sorry. This was dumb. I'm dumb. I'm sorry for bothering you, princess.”

 

“What are you-”

 

“Good night, Marinette,” said Chat hurriedly, already turning tail and making his way up the ladder to her bed, which conveniently lead to the trapdoor that would take him to her balcony so that he could make his escape.

 

But Marinette followed him, eyes burning with bright determination. “Chat Noir,” she started but Chat had already opened the trapdoor and tumbled unto the balcony.

 

 _Quick!_ He thought to himself as he bolted to the railing. Why had he even gone to visit her in the first place? What kind of idiot was he? How would he be able to face Marinette as Chat ever again? How would he face her as Adrien?!

 

He shouldn't even broken this dumb possible rule of meeting up with her in his hero identity. He is almost certain now that such a rule exists. Probably to avoid embarrassments like the one he had just had.

 

Just as he was about hop over the railing and take off two hands grabbed his bicep and fiercely pulled him down.

 

“Chat!” said Marinette as he tumbled down and landed on top of her.

 

“Princess!” he exclaimed, scrambling up. “Are you okay? I'm so, so sorry. I really do hope that-”

 

“I'll do it,” said Marinette breathlessly, looking up at him with her bright blue eyes.

 

Chat froze. “Come again?”

 

“I'll do it. I'll be your friend, Chat Noir,” said one Marinette Dupain-Cheng, smiling up at him.

 

“You-you will?” asked Chat nervously. It sounded to good to be true.

 

“Of course I will,” she replied, eyes going soft. “I'll always be here for you, okay?”

 

Chat nodded slowly, processing this new information. “Okay.”

 

“Okay,” Marinette repeated.

 

“I-uh-I should get going,” Chat stammered. “It's kind of late and-um- I'll see you soon, princess.”

 

Marinette's eyes twinkled with amusement. “See you around, Chat.”

 

He gave her one final salute before disappearing off into the night. Once he was a ways away from her house he let out a loud whoop of victory that echoed throughout the sleeping city.

 

He did it! He had really done it!

 

He and Marinette were friends now!

 

He did it!

 

And thus was the start of a beautiful friendship and Chat Noir's ultimate downfall.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plz talk to me on tumblr @totally-not-addicted and twitter @TNAhere to talk about just how wonderful Adrien Agreste/ Chat Noir is

**Author's Note:**

> ~~Psssttt you can catch me on tumblr @totally-not-addicted or twitter @TNAhere to talk about anything Chat Noir or MLB~~


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